Of Joy, Sorrow, and Mat
by Wordseeker
Summary: This is a piece I had written 2 years ago after reading The Towers of Midnight. It chronicles the adventures of Mat, Thom and Noal in the Tower of Ghenjei, where they go to rescue Moiraine. Hope it still reads well and you enjoy it. Totally canon compatible, oneshot. Reviews welcome, they feed the writer.


**Of Joy, Sorrow, and Mat**

Mat ran as fast as he could, trying to get far from the footsteps sounding in the distance. He did not know what was making the noise and following him, but what he knew was that he would not like to face whatever it was. So he ran. But the path in front of him was long and confusing; he could not understand where it began and where it ended. Noal's weight dragging him down was no help.

No, not Noal, this was Jain Farstrider, and he was injured. Nearly dead. But Mat could not leave him and go, not this man, the one of whom he had heard tales while sitting around fires. Whose stories filled the world. And now, the one who clung to Mat for dear life like, just like another man of mere flesh and bones and not the hero who he had once heard of.

'But heroes are supposed to get out of such problems and help the others, not seek help themselves' thought Mat.

"Blood and bloody ashes", mouthing these words, he ran onwards, not caring to stop even for a breath, lest he slow down and lose all will to get up again.

'Cursed luck, help me now!' thinking so, he went on, walls and windows flying past him, but the scene was never changing. He could see the same three spires as before, unchanged. Even the time showed no changes, judging from the appearance of the sky. The only thing which confirmed that he was moving ahead was the sound of his own footsteps. And of the one following him.

This was the Tower of Ghenjei, he realized. But he had escaped from here long back, and Noal was already dead. His blind eye was the proof of that. Unconsciously he raised his free arm to his eye, just to realize that it was in place and everything was all right. Well everything with his vision at least.

He barked a mad, desperate laugh at this and increased his pace, well and truly scared now.

'THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING' he roared, and went ahead, the sound of his follower increasing and quickening as he too sped up to match Mat's pace.

When all of a sudden, Mat saw – nothing. The road ahead of him had ended. There was a vast expanse of nothingness ahead of him, and though Mat did not know what it was, he did know that if he stepped ahead, then that would be the end of Matrim bloody Cauthon.

Placing Noal down – for he would always be Noal, the guy who helped him in Ebou Dar – he slowly turned around, Ashandarei in hand, to face whatever was following him.

Noal caught his hand as he was turning, looked him in the eyes, and worded a simple statement –"'The Shadow plays with your vision and mind. Do not trust the shadow, let the light be your guide,'" and he collapsed on the floor with a small grin.

"The light can guide me all it likes as long as I manage to the Two Rivers safely for one of Marin's hot, steaming pies and a flagon in the winespring inn."

Twirling the Ashandarei once, he clutched the Fox Head medallion, reassuring himself of his safety.

He noticed a pair of eyes come slowly ahead in the darkness from the darkness behind him (Now where did the darkness come from?) with the sound of the stocky footsteps.

Gleaming eyes, as sharp as diamonds came into the small circle of light between the two.

This place is changing according to its own will, realized Mat and he understood that however fast he would have run, he would have finally had to face this person coming towards him now. The Tower itself willed it so.

Standing exactly ahead of Noal, he took his stance, to provide maximum protection to the fallen.

The figure slowly came into the light.

A well built and muscled body, a face of hard lines and angles, as if carved from a statue, and a Golden crown on his head.

It was Al'Lan Mandragoran, Lord of the Seven Towers, Lord of the Lakes, True Blade of Malkier, and Uncrowned King of Malkier…now with a crown?

"Matrim Cauthon, always found in the most amusing of places" he said in a derisory voice.

"Lan" said Mat, sounding confused, "funny seeing you here. Did you come after Moiraine? Have you found her?"

"Moiraine is dead Mat. She did not bow to the Shadow. So she was taken care of", replied Lan, unsheathing his blade, and running a thumb over its sharp side.

A straight and sharp line of blood erupted on his thumb, and he looked at Mat, smiling.

"What do you mean Moiraine is bloody dead? Have you lost your mind your mind you buffon, you are her warder. Blood and bloody ashes I didn't come all the way here for her to die on me! What happened to her? This isn't possible" shrieked Mat, his eyes wild with despair.

How could Lan be talking about Moiraine's death with such ease? What was that crown doing on his head? Such questions haunted mats mind, shouting and screeching at him like the sound of broken swords clashing at the end of a tiring and bloody battle.

"Firstly, I am not Moiraine's warder anymore. Secondly, she is head because I killed her, cleaving her head with this sword" he said, pulling his sword up, "You could call it – a clean cut", he smirked.

"You lie. You could not have done something like this. She is safe. YOU LIE!" shouted Mat, screaming his anger at the Light.

"Is it?" said Lan, "well then, what is this?" he said, removing the sack from his shoulder and untying it.

Reaching within, he pulled out two heads, cut cleanly of at the neck.

White wisps of hair on one, along with the huge moustache and long hair said that it was Thom.

An ageless face, with a blue stone on the forehead could only mean that it was Moiraine.

And both of them had bloody holes in place of eyes. It made Mat sick to even look at them.

Almost gagging, he muttered, "Why would you do this? You fiend. WHY?" he ended up shouting.

"For this", he replied, pointing at his crown.

"You now speak to the King of Malkier. When the Dark One takes over, I will rule in glory by his side"

"You…you will not rule anywhere", replied Mat and Ashandarei in hand, he ran at Mat, tears streaming through his eyes.

"There is only one salvation – to go support the Great Lord, all else is but a fake reality until he destroys us all", and saying so, he blocked Mat's blow with a quick thrust of his own, forcing Mat to parry his attack and turn attack to defense.

Then Lan began attacking, and it was as if an avalanche was awakened within icy mountains.

The Boar rushed downhill, followed by Apple blossoms in the snow, and a quick parry from Mat's thrust, followed again by Cutting the clouds and the creeper embraces the oak.

Land may have gone over to the dark, but he seemed to be even faster and stronger than before thought Mat as he followed each strike and defended it expertly. He would have been lying on the ground from cuts all over his body had it not been for those memories of ancient times helping him through.

And he opened his mind to the memories from when Two rivers was Manetheren, The Lord General holding his line against a horde of Trollocs alone, as he was attacked from all three sides, with just a tree for cover.

This was similar, except that the tree was Noal, and falling back would mean falling into an endless void.

With those memories, he swerved his Ashandarei and fought onwards, his hands a blur as they defended and attacked, as if given a will of their own. Then, he took his Ashandarei back and gave a 0 degree forward thrust with all his might, forcing Land to defend with a quick slash and parry, yet throwing him backwards and off balance at the same time. In that second, Mat put his trickster's hand within his coat's pocket and threw two of Aldura's small fireworks in Lan's path, distracting him further.

"There go the last of those beauties", he muttered and from the other sleeve, he removed two knives, flinging them at Lan.

Sparks flew as from the smoke, Lan just managed to deflect the knives, the fireworks leaving burn marks on his face.

And in that one moment, as Mat faced Lan's dark and stone-like gaze, another memory came to him. A flash of Light, not from some long dead general, but a memory of his own. A time long dead though, when he was in two rivers and used to steal pies and trick people, playing pranks all the time. And he laughed.

Lan came at him again, but Mat had drawn first blood using his fireworks, however that had only succeeded in angering him, and he came at Mat with renewed fury, slashing at will, his sword a streak of silver.

It was all Mat could do to defend his own, and Lan came in close for the final blow, his sword a single half- thrust away from Mat's heart.

Then, Mat threw another firecracker at Lan, directly in his face, the light blinding him, and at the same time, Mat closed his eyes, muttered under his breath "Luck, stay with me" thrust at Lan's general position, towards his heart, the quickness, precision and power of his power wrought Ashandarei being too much for Lan to dodge, coupled with his Luck.

"But you said that you didn't have any of those things left", muttered Lan.

Mat walked forward, Ashandarei in hand, looked at Lan in the eyes and smiled, "I lied."

And he cleaved off his head.

"A clean stroke, you say", turning around, he walked back to Noal, who was smiling at him, but as he tried to get Noal up, he fell down on his knees, and for the first time noticed the damage that Lan had done to his legs and body. It was ravaged by cuts all over, bloody trickling from each crevice in his Green coat.

"Looks like it's the end of the line for me, Farstrider", he uttered, facing Noal in the eyes, who continued smiling as Mat collapsed. And the world went dark.

Opening his eye, he looked around. The world was blurry to his vision. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around.

Thom and Moiraine were sitting by a fire; Thom with that huge harp in hand seemed to be playing some melody for Moiraine, who looked content and peaceful, as never before thought Mat. To the right the river Arinelle flowed with vigour, and a solid metallic tower gleamed in the light of dusk.

He was out of that darned place, but he remembered collapsing due to his wounds and also the dead heads of Thom and Moiraine came to mind. Then perhaps he had died and come to the after -life, if there was such a thing? Or could he have been tied to the horn? Was he a hero? Nay, muttered Mat, he was no hero, and walked towards the two sitting by the fire.

They noticed Mat, but Thom did not stop playing, while Moiraine just smiled her ever-knowing smile at Mat, yet this time he found a pleasantness to it, which he liked. A friendliness, if he could say that. The music provided by Thom in the soft light provided by the fire and the rustle of his boots on the leaves gave a serenity and peacefulness to the atmosphere.

"It seems that the rescue effort was too hard on your body, Master Mat. But what you did puts even the bravest deeds of the Great Captains of past and present to shame. It is good to have you awake again. You have been asleep for the most part of the day. Pleasant dreams you had, yes?"

Said Moiraine.

Listening to these words, his left hand flew to his eye, trying to clear his vision, yet it remained partially dark. And then her words struck him, the remains of his grogginess disappearing as if the One Power was used on it.

She had asked him whether he'd had pleasant dreams!

And he began laughing like a mad man, the sound of his voice filling the air, in a rustic melody, as the thought came to him that Jain Farstrider was the one dead, sorrow seeping into his happiness.

And he continued to laugh.


End file.
